Half Lives (7 page)

The only way I was ever going to get through this was to pretend it wasn’t happening. The world wouldn’t end on some random Friday night. I mean, we were only a few weeks away from
the
American Idol
finale. I had to graduate and have sex – at the very minimum.

Just get to Vegas
, I told myself, and it will all be OK. My parents will come and get me and tell me this has been an extreme misunderstanding and my life will get back to normal.

I didn’t know it then but
OK
and
normal
were already long gone.

‘Everything happens for a reason. You just may never know what it is.’

– Just Saying 76

BECKETT

W
hen Beckett wakes the next day, his first thought is of the mysterious girl. Before his eyes open, he can see her there as if she is waiting for
him. Like the sun, he travels a daily unalterable path from morning to night. Breakfast. Walk the Mountain with Harper. Sayings for the rockstars. Lunch. Meditation and counselling. Sayings for the
sick. Dinner. Storytime. Patrol the Mountain with Harper and Finch. Every day he lives for others. But today, for the first time in his life, he is doing something for himself.

‘I’m going to meditate near the Crown,’ he tells Harper, who always sleeps between him and Finch.

‘I’ll come with you.’ Harper is fully awake and wrapping a scarf around her neck.

‘I want to be alone.’ He sees the hurt in her eyes. Recently he’s found Harper’s desire to protect him stifling.

‘Do you think that’s safe?’ she whispers.

He glares at her, sending the message not to give away their secrets – the lights and the girl. ‘I want to be alone,’ he says again, a little too vehemently.
‘I’ve received a message from the Great I AM.’ And it’s not a complete lie. This desire to see the girl again could be a message from the Great I AM. He has asked for
guidance and understanding. An urge this powerful must be from the Great I AM.

Harper pokes Finch’s blankets with her toe. ‘Finch, let’s you and me . . .’ He’s not there. ‘Finch must be on patrol already.’

Beckett grits his teeth. Will he ever be alone?

‘See,’ he says, softening the angry edges of his voice, ‘I’ll be perfectly safe.’ As he stands, he gives Harper a kiss on the forehead.

The cave air is sour with sleep, warm bodies and stale smoke. Farther back in the cave, he can hear the rockstars beginning to wake. Atti is poking her face between the curtains that
separate the Cheerleaders from the rockstars. Beckett wonders how long she has been waiting there. He waves to her and she gives him one of her wonderfully wonky smiles.

‘Hey, Cheer Captain!’ Atti says too loudly. Beckett thinks the Great I AM packed too much energy in her little body.

He raises a finger to his lips to remind her to keep her voice down, but it’s too late. The Cheerleaders are stirring. Atti races to him, treading on Cheerleaders as she goes.
Her path is punctuated with grunts and squeals. She hugs him, and he feels guilty about wanting to sneak away. ‘Are you ready for your Walk of Enlightenment?’ he asks her, demonstrating
what a whisper sounds like.

She nods and keeps on nodding. She will be tested on the Great I AM’s Just Sayings she has transcribed in her Facebook. If she passes, she will lead Forreal on a Walk of
Enlightenment up the Mountain. She will be the first new Cheerleader they’ve had in nearly two years.

‘Harper is helping you study, isn’t she?’ Beckett asks.

Atti nods and nods and nods again.

Beckett bends down and whispers in her ear, ‘I think you should go and surprise Harper.’

She giggles and practically dives on to Harper’s pile of blankets. Harper gives Beckett a look that says she knows what he’s done. He’s catching two squirrels with
one nut.

He makes his way to the cave’s entrance before anyone can follow. The Cheerleaders shift in their blankets to clear a path for him. Their eyes track him as he exits. Beckett
often feels like a bird soaring between the Great I AM and the Mountain, but today he feels like a spider trapped in its own web.

‘Any news?’ Beckett asks the two Cheerleaders who are guarding the cave.

‘The Mountain was quiet. The Great I AM has blessed us with another beautiful sunrise,’ Heck says.

‘Have a mediocre day!’ Beckett says, and waves.

‘Whatever,’ they reply as he passes.

Lucky scampers up beside Beckett. He sometimes wishes he could have Lucky’s life. She comes and goes as she pleases.

‘Good morning, Lucky,’ he says, and lifts the cat into his arms. She purrs and nuzzles the crook of his neck. She doesn’t care that he has disrupted their routine.
She’s just happy to see him.

‘Hey, Beckett,’ May calls, and stirs a meaty mixture that is suspended from a tripod over the fire. Her back is permanently hunched as if she’s always studying the
ground. ‘What are you doing up so early?’

‘Hey, May,’ he calls back. ‘I’m off to meditate.’ She’s always up before dawn, cooking the morning meal. Forreal survives because everyone has a
role and a responsibility.

‘Whatever!’ she says with a wave. Lucky leaps from Beckett’s arms and runs to May. Lucky meows and May finds a few scraps to satisfy her.

Beckett sneaks out of Forreal, taking the path behind the Mall tiled with multi-coloured bits of plastic. He loops the Mountain before he heads to the place where he and Harper saw
the girl. He feels light with his secret mission.

Disappointment settles in his chest when he rounds the corner where the trail they followed dead-ends and she’s not there. He climbs the rocky wall and scans the valley below.
He watches the shadows grow as the sun rises. How can he feel such a loss for something he never had in the first place?

The next day and the next he steals away as often as he can to the spot where he saw the girl. He makes excuses to Harper and takes great care to make sure no one follows him.
Unlike the first time he looked for the girl, he slips these secret searches in among his responsibilities, but he can tell a few of the Cheerleaders are starting to notice his disappearances.

He fills the days with thoughts of her. He etches her image in his memory. The shiny hair curling down her back, not matted in dreads. The full, figure-eight shape of her body. Those
eyes a colour he never knew eyes could be. He has conversations with her in his head. He tells her things he can’t tell anyone in Forreal. He imagines how she would look at him if she
didn’t know his direct connection with the Great I AM. He’s beginning to wonder if she was some sort of hallucination.

He holds his breath as he approaches the secluded spot. If she’s not there today, he tells himself, he will stop coming here and waiting for her. Part of him wants to turn
around. If he doesn’t check, then he can imagine she’s there, always there, waiting for him. But
believing is seeing,
so says the Great I AM.

He turns the corner to where the path dead-ends. And there she is. She’s standing in front of him. He almost can’t believe it. He wants to rush to her, but he knows this
closeness he’s created is only in his imagination.

She’s wearing denim shorts. Loose white threads create a fringe at the jagged hem around her thighs. She’s drawn a symbol on her dingy T-shirt. Three triangles form a
sloppy circle. The triangles float near one another like three separate pieces of pie.

‘You came back,’ he says. It takes every ounce of strength to keep his distance. She blinks those green eyes at him. They remind him of the lush oasis around the Mountain
spring. That’s what she is to him. ‘I’m Beckett.’

As if in a trance, she walks over to him and touches his face. He closes his eyes. His attention narrows to the softness of her fingertips as she traces a line from his brow to his
chin.

‘Beckett.’ His name is like music on her lips. When he opens his eyes, she jerks her hand away. ‘I wanted to make sure you were real,’ she says shyly.

He cocks his head. Such a strange creature. ‘What did you think I was?’

‘I don’t know. A ghost or something. I’ve heard rumours that this mountain is haunted by strange . . .’ She wipes her hand on her shorts.
‘Sorry.’

She climbs up the rock. ‘Come on!’ she calls and he follows. The two stand side by side and stare at the desert below.

He finally works up the courage to speak to her again. ‘Where did you come from?’ He realizes he is leaning forwards, eager to touch her.

‘I live in Vega.’ She points to the Man-Made Mountains.

‘Vega?’

‘That city down there.’ She bites her lower lip.

He remembers the lights. This girl was the light in the Man-Made Mountains. ‘Is it safe in Vega? Our ancestors told us of horrible beasties that live Out There.’

‘I’ve seen mountain lions and coyotes,’ she says, and backs up to the rock’s edge. ‘Is that what you mean?’

‘Not exactly.’ He decides not to scare her with talk of Terrorists.

The girl sits cross-legged and pats the space next to her. Beckett suddenly feels vulnerable out in the open. He’s been wishing for her and now she’s here, but it
doesn’t feel right. He doesn’t know what to say. She shouldn’t be on the Mountain.

‘Where are
you
from?’ she asks and cranes her neck to look up at him.

‘I live in Forreal,’ he says. He’s not sure how much to reveal. Suddenly this all seems like such a bad idea. After seeing the lights, Finch is itching for a fight.
He’s convinced that anyone and anything Out There is a threat. What would Finch do if he found her?

‘For real?’ she says, breaking the word into two parts.

He doesn’t correct her. ‘It’s on the other side of the Mountain.’

She tosses her hair over her shoulder and Beckett marvels at how it bounces and falls down her back. He is mesmerized by her round face, rosy cheeks and full pink lips.

He sits facing her. He can’t hear the Great I AM over the pounding of his heart. He has so much he wants to ask. He’s imagined this moment over and over, but now
he’s too afraid to break the spell. They take turns pretending not to stare at each other. He tests questions in his mind but none of them seem right. And, as the Great I AM says,
Knowledge can suck.

‘I probably should go,’ she says after a few more minutes of silence.

‘Can we meet again?’ he asks.

‘I’d like that,’ she replies, and places her hand on his leg. Her touch sparks something inside him. His attention focuses on her hand. ‘I’m Greta, by
the way.’ She writes her name in the dust. ‘I’ll come back tomorrow at sunset.’

Beckett stares at the letters. He can’t believe it. G-r-e-t-a. Great. It’s a sign. The Great I AM has brought them together. It must mean something.

She stands and brushes herself off. ‘Why don’t we meet down there?’ she says, and points to a cluster of rocks that Beckett knows hide the entrance to a small
alcove. It’s the perfect secret meeting spot.

‘I will see you there tomorrow,’ he says, but then wonders how she knows about that hiding place. How many times has she hidden on his Mountain? He wipes those thoughts
away. It doesn’t matter. She’s here and it’s as if she were always destined to be here.

Even after she leaves he can still feel the warmth of her touch. He can’t wait to see her again and be a boy and a girl, nothing more and nothing less.

GRETA

G
reta glances back one last time. Balanced on the rock tower and wearing nothing but a strange leather skirt, Beckett looks like one of those statues
she found in Vega, except he’s in one perfect piece – not broken like everything else. Every curve of muscle is carved into his glistening brown skin. As he climbs up the mountainside,
the shock of white that splits his jet-black hair flashes like a bolt of lightning streaking across a stormy sky.

Her life has been about constant motion. Those moments with Beckett felt as if they were suspended in time. She imagined they were the only two people left on Earth. There were no
meetings to draw up rules. No things to lug from here to there. No food to be gathered or cooked or served. No brothers to herd. She should have asked more questions. What will she report back to
Da? Her first real mission and she has failed.